Homecoming
by PsychoDirector
Summary: When you're born only to kill, sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes there are variables--people who aren't ready to drown. And sometimes there are people you just let go. Calm yourself, young one. It's time to come home. Poetic drablet!


_(The club is packed. All around, audience members are clapping and cheering with all the volume of a KISS concert. The lights are out, aside from yellow spotlights dancing across the stage. Then, running forward from the becurtained back of the stage, the announcer, Psycho Director, takes the mike with a devious grin. A real cool song is playing in the background--'Time is Running Out', by Papa Roach--and the audience is headbanging with it. Then, Psycho suddenly shoots a fist up into the air, and the audience quickly copies her.)_

_Psycho:_ _**Represent!**_

_Audience: **Represent!**_

_Psycho: Hey, hey, everyone! It's time for the moment you've all been waiting for! He flew in all the way from_ Lake Oblongota_ in order to be with his fans tonight, so we'd better give him the **best show of his life**! _

_Audience: **Woo**! (Really loud cheering)_

_Psycho: And here he is, the one, the only... **THE HAND OF GALOCHIO**!!_

_Audience: (More cheering, and one "what does this have to do with beatnic poetry?".)_

_Hand: Uh... h-hello. I-I'd like to share with you a p-poem I worked on on the way here. Um... this goes out to a very special person in my life, someone who I've always to get really, uh, c-closer to. Razputin, t-this one's for you._

_Raz: (Stands up from the back row of the audiance, gaining a whole two inches) I HATE YOU. D8_

_Hand: Me too. (Clears throat) A-hem. H-here I go..._

_(FADE OUT)_

_**

* * *

**_

Cold, wet, gripping tight,

_**That's the best way you know to describe it.**_

_**You claim it's a lie but you just can't deny it.**_

_**No way out except to fight.**_

_**You work so hard for your need to breathe,**_

_**Only to watch them all disbelieve.**_

_**Wet like water, cold like ice.**_

_**Breathing gets tight—you're paranoid,**_

_**Even away from the black of the void,**_

_**Your lousy excuses seem to suffice.**_

_**The faces around want to buy your lie.**_

_**You know fear of the water is fear to die.**_

_**You can't pretend you didn't feel,**_

_**Watch the air choked out from inside,**_

_**Caught up to by the hand you tried to hide.**_

_**You can't pretend it wasn't real.**_

_**When people ask if it's water you fear,**_

_**You won't say there's something else in here.**_

_**How many times have I let you go?**_

_**How many times slipped out of my touch,**_

_**Seconds before it became too much?**_

_**Is now the time to let you know?**_

_**What do you think of, away from the sea?**_

_**I wonder if you're still thinking of me.**_

_**Don't let your phobia keep you from joy.**_

_**Stand in front of the crowd and flash them a grin,**_

_**Think for once that you just might win.**_

_**But we know that's not true, do we, boy?**_

_**All I know is what I do,**_

_**And all I do is killing you.**_

_**You know this, somewhere, in the back of your mind.**_

_**As you laugh and joke and run around,**_

_**Your internal clock is winding down.**_

_**Around a dead, blue finger, you're entwined.**_

_**And sooner or later, you'll understand,**_

_**Obeying me is no unjust demand.**_

_**Someday soon, you're coming home.**_

_**Sooner or later you'll go too deep,**_

_**Into the realms in which I sleep.**_

_**I'll watch you struggle, all alone.**_

_**You'll yell and kick and reach up there,**_

_**Throwing away all that precious air.**_

_**I'll gaily watch your fighting slow,**_

_**A deep, dark blue is all you see,**_

_**Lost somewhere deep down inside me.**_

_**I'll heave a sigh and let you go.**_

_**A few more days yet to let you grow,**_

_**To play this game a little more,**_

_**Just a little while before,**_

_**Before the day you won't return.**_

_**The ones on shore will never learn,**_

_**Of a life make so much worse,**_

_**For one little boy by one little curse.**_

_**Against the waves they'll call you back,**_

_**While I enjoy a blue-skinned snack.**_

_**Your worried friends will never know,**_

_**How the end of the story will surely go,**_

_**How that little boy ended up**_

_**All alone.**_

_**Isn't this fun?**_

_Psycho: ...All right! Give it up, everyone, for Handy G, and his b-to the-eatnic! _

_Audience: (Snaps fingers)_

_Raz: (Stands up again, a bit more hesitant) ...Am I the only one who's _really _uncomfortable being here, now?_

_Psycho: Now what could give you that--**HE'S ONTO US HOSE THE AREA**!! D8_

_(A bunch of firefighters show up and start hosing the audience, which screams, panicks, and starts running. Handy G goes missing unexplainably. Many people drowned. It was the best concert ever.)_

_THE END._

* * *


End file.
